Thinking of You
by Miko Takahashi
Summary: When he presses Meg up against the wall, rough with his fingers in her hair, he's not thinking of her; he's thinking of Dean. Destiel; more smut, less plot. Enjoy!


A/N: Hi guys! I haven't written a fic in an incredibly long time...Years even. I just recently got into the Supernatural fandom, and I've been itching for some Destiel, so enjoy! Just a quick smutfic, may add more. If there are any Destiel scenarios you'd like to see next, give me a hollar!

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When he presses Meg up against the wall, rough with his fingers in her hair, he's not thinking of her; he's thinking of Dean. Ever since the incident with he, Sam, Dean, and the porn, he's just felt so..._Frazzled_. He was an angel of the lord; he didn't have time for the simple pleasures in life, nor did he let himself fall accustomed to them. He knew of sex, he knew what it was, but he had never engaged in it before; truthfully, he had never had the desire too. But living in this vessel, he had learned many things about being stuck in a human body; how its' desires took over sometimes, how the heart works; how it clouds the brain of any logical thought...Sometimes, it's all to much for him, but he doesn't let it show.

His lips are caressing against hers and he doesn't see that desire forming in Deans eyes as he watches him run his hands down the girls body before quickly pulling away, heart pounding and breath racing. He doesn't see that jealous twinge pulling at his lips as Dean raises his hands in the air with mock confusion and frustration as he looks over at his brother, who looks equally confused. He has no other explanation as silence lingers in the air, his facial features never changing as he turns to look at the two men.

"I learned it from the pizza man." Are the only words that escape him, flat and almost unemotional as he pulls away from Meg, who looks more than pleased with a lazy grin on her lips. He doesn't have any other desire to kiss her now as he turns and leads the group forward, leaving her alone with the knife and the hell hounds.

He doesn't see Dean's eyes tracing him; he doesn't know how hard the mans heart is racing, and how his breath catches in his throat as he plays the scene over and over in his mind again. He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a soft breath; behind him, Dean does the same and pushes forward.

As usual, when all is done, he disappears. Sometimes he does it because he likes the way Dean reacts;_ 'You never were good at goodbyes.'_ in that gruff voice of his as he clears his throat and grips the steering wheel of his car. They go for days without seeing each other, and sometimes he thinks that's a good thing, it helps him cleanse those impure thoughts and collect himself. He knows Dean will never tell him how much he wants him to stay, because he's far to proud for that, and he is okay with that. Because one day, when Dean does tell him to stay, he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.

Eventually though, that day comes. Dean doesn't say it in words, but he calls for him in the night, and like always, he comes. The next thing he knows is lips on his own and fingers threading through his hair; his back meets the bed and they're kissing like it was the last thing they were destined to do on this earth. He gasps against Dean's lips, breath sharp as he straddles him. He's never felt this way before; he's never felt that strong desire rush through his veins, never felt that sharp twinge of pleasure collecting between his legs as Dean presses down against his hips, their cocks grinding beneath the fabric of their pants and oh; he's sure he's not going to make it out of this alive...And for a moment, hes okay with that. For a moment, he can forget about heaven and hell and just _savor_ it.

He closes his eyes, trench coat pooling onto the floor as dean yanks it off with little grace, the rustle of the fabric echoing in the dull, dark room. He's sure night is upon them, and for a moment as fingers tug at the buttons of his undershirt, he gazes up to meet the others gaze. Even in the darkness, he can see how fierce the hunger is in Dean's eyes, how desperate he is for this. He wants to hold that stare for a moment longer, he wants to lose himself in those gorgeous green eyes, but Dean was never one for romance; at least, what he could tell anyways.

Soon, lips are trailing down his neck as he feels his tie loosen, and a moan escapes his lips; it's a foreign noise to his own ears, and he can feel Dean smirk against his skin. For a moment, he blushes and he turns his head to the side, lips parting in another soft breath, fingers trembling slightly against the sheets. Should he be doing this? After all, he had more important matters to tend to other than his own pleasure, but as Dean tosses both of their shirts off to the side towards the rumpled mess of already discarded clothing, fingers running down his chest as hips lips follow in a fiery trail, tongue teasing the exposed skin. He can feel Dean's hands, surprisingly smooth as they make their way down to his belt. Fingers fumble with a sense of nervousness and urgency, and he swallows, hips lifting slightly to help the other out.

But as Dean undoes his belt and tosses it, he wastes no time. He loops his fingers into the few belt loops of his pants and tugs, undergarments and all as he licks a trail from beneath his cock to the tip, swirling and teasing and, father help him it felt so good. He immediately rakes his fingers through Dean's hair, pressing down, almost begging for more as soft whines escape his lips, but Dean is having none of it. He presses soft kisses down his shaft, before sliding his hands beneath the others thighs; carefully, as if he had planned this out before, he kisses and sucks the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, nipping and biting as he slides his hand further down, grabbing his ass and pulling him closer.

That's when Dean gives him what he wants.

His mouth slid around the tip of his cock, tongue dancing all the way down as he nearly engulfs him whole and suddenly, he can't think straight anymore. All that echoes in the room is the sound of himself struggling against the old, musty bedsheets and the sound of Dean, Dean, Dean in a heavy chant as the other sucks on his cock, teasing mercilessly. All he can do is cry out and buck up into the others mouth, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as an unfamiliar feeling wells up between his legs. For a moment, he almost panics, fingers desperately trying to tug at Deans hair, to pull him up, but he doesn't have the strength, and Dean doesn't seem to mind. Deans lips are like heaven against his cock, and all he knows after a few more seconds is bliss; he's thrusting desperately into the others mouth because he can feel it; it's so close, so close, but just as quickly Dean is pulling away, licking his lips in an obscenely dirty fashion that he's almost sure he had to have learned from one of those pornography movies. He moans; the noise is broken and desperate, but Dean pays no heed to his complaints. Instead, he parts the others thighs, delving down to torture him once more, but this time, he has other plans.

"D-Dean, wait." Castiel finally breathes, trembling from pleasure, "P-Please."

Dean gazes up at the older male, eyes curious now. He doesn't speak; he parts his lips questioningly, almost annoyed that Cas had stopped him so soon. But there was no need for words as Castiel switched gears; he was going to show Dean how badly he wanted this, how badly he wanted him; he would let the man have his fun, but right now, he needed to delve into his own deep, dark desires. He flipped the other over on the bed, straddling him as he leaned down, kissing him desperately. He felt the others hands slide down his back, reach to grip his ass tightly, fingers probing the skin as one teased at his entrance, but he didn't mind; it felt strange, but in a good way. He pressed against the finger, welcoming it as he kissed down Dean's neck, sucking heavily on the skin. A heat boiled in the bit of his stomach as the other moaned, the noise low and guttural, threatening him to his release. He felt his own cock throb almost painfully, and he gasped against Dean's skin. He moved away from the others hand, returning the favor as he slid down, fingers splaying against the others still clothed lower half, and tugs at the offending fabric, freeing Dean's erection. It was then, he knew he had zero idea what he was doing, but Dean was a man who knew what he want; he would guide him.

For a moment, he simply kissed around the others cock, tongue tasting and exploring the heated skin until Dean's fingers curled into his hair, urging him down further. He takes the warning and slides his lips down the full length, bobbing slowly, up and down as Dean writhes beneath him, eyebrows knit together in pleasure and lips parted in soft, desperate noises. He takes a moment to explore Dean entirely as he devours the others cock; it was salty, but not overpowering..It was a taste he was sure he could get used too, as long as it meant being able to see Dean like this. He runs his hands down the others backside, before returning back to his thighs, parting them further as he kissed down, further and further until he hesitated at the others entrance, lips and cheeks flushed. His gaze flickered to Dean's for a moment, and they stared at one another for just a split second. The desire in the room became to much, and he wasted no time.

He teased his tongue softly against his entrance at first, hands spreading the others cheeks as he licked a long stripe up, then back down, before delving further in. He could feel the muscles tightening around his tongue, the other bucking down against his mouth. However, he could only keep up so long before his jaw became sore; something he assumed would only strengthen with practice. He pulled away to admire Dean for a moment, how his entire body seemed to flush with pleasure, the way his cock bounced, desperate to be buried in something, and oh, did he have just the remedy for that.

Before he had a chance though, Dean was on top of him again, and they were nearly wrestling on the bed, mouths attached as they kissed almost violently, tongue and teeth clashing as he fell back against the bed at the mercy of Dean. Both hearts were beating heavily as Dean lifted one hand up to his mouth, and for a moment, he gazed up at him, confused.

"Suck." He commanded, and Cas parted his lips obediently, eyes never leaving Deans as his tongue curled around the first, second and third, watching as the other on top of him tried his hardest to hold his composure. Cas had no idea how gorgeous he looked, so flushed and desperate, sucking on the others fingers like that, and Dean had no idea how gorgeous he looked, sitting on top of him, naked and wanting as he stroked his own cock a few times, fingers trembling. He pulled his fingers from the others mouth after a few more moments, sliding down between his legs as he pressed one finger slowly into the entrance. It burned; his body was trying desperately to reject it, and he swallowed heavily, closing his eyes because he knew somehow, Dean was going to make this good.

And _oh_, he wasn't disappointed.

A second, followed by a third intruded and he moaned, the noise low and loud as his head tilted against the pillows, body writhing as Dean pressed against something inside of him, causing him to cry out. His breath quickened, and he gasped, eyebrows knitting together in pleasure as Dean fucked him with his fingers, bucking down against them as much as possible to pull him in deeper, but after a few moments the other pulled away, and he nearly whined, toes curling in frustration.

Dean put an end to his whining quickly, though; he watched him as he spit into his hands and for a moment his nose wrinkled in both disgust and confusion, but Dean caught him, smirking slightly. He leaned over the others body, parting his legs as he positioned himself at the others entrance. For a moment, he hovered there, looking up at the other, as if for permission. The look on Cas's face never faltered though, and he nodded, as if wondering what the other was waiting for. But then, he knew.

"_D-Dean!_" He gasped, clutching at the others back as a searing pain ran through his backside, nails digging slightly into his skin, but Dean said nothing in return, he simply stayed still, waiting for that pain to pass. Cas rested his head against the others shoulder, body and breath trembling as he closed his eyes. Slowly, Dean would move into his body, inch by inch until he was fully sheathed. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, having Dean inside of him like this, but it was...Unusual.

But as Dean laid him back and began to thrust into him, he realized unusual wasn't so bad. He gasped as as the other kept a slow, agonizingly pleasurable pace, leaving and entering him, and each time he was sure he would never be able to find the right words to explain how wonderful it felt to be fucked like this; he gasped and grunted as their noises mixed in the room, the smell of sweat and sex rising as Dean quickened his pace. Cas whined, gripping at the sheets as if they were his last hope on earth; he was so close, he could feel it. He bit his lower lip, head tossed back in near ecstasy as Dean reached down between them, stroking his cock quickly in time with his thrusts, causing him to cry out louder, body bucking down onto his cock, gasping and moaning every time the other hit that spot deep inside of him that would cause his own cock to throb and leak.

"D-Dean, Dean..._Fuck_, Dean!" And that's when Dean lost it, when he uttered such a dirty word like that. He had never heard Cas swear before, and truth be told, Cas had never really swore before, save for a few times, and certainly not like that. Maybe it was true; sex made people into entirely different beings.

But that didn't stop Cas from continuing his mantra of curses and moans, a heavy string of _Dean! Please! Please!_ escaping his lips as he writhed helplessly beneath the other as Dean continued to pound into him, harder and harder until neither of them could take it anymore. With one last thrust Dean pressed as deep as he could inside of him, striking that spot hard as both of them cried out as he released inside of him. Cas could feel every movement of the others cock throbbing inside as he came, the liquid shooting hot and heavy into him, dripping obscenely down his legs, soaking into the bedsheets.

His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as Dean collapsed on top of him, tangled in one another in a sweaty, pleased mess. He could feel Dean bury himself against his neck, and for a second, he was sure that he felt hot tears pressing against his skin, but he said nothing of it. Instead, he simply wound his arms around the others body, closing his eyes. He knew life hadn't been easy for Dean; having a brother without a soul, hunting demons and monsters, playing Death...A person could only handle so much before he broke. Dean was no angel; he was only human. But he knew pointing out those weaknesses in him would only make things worse, so carefully and quietly, he ran his fingers through the others hair as he came down from his pleasure high, the heat in the room giving way to a cold breeze as they were brought back to reality.

An hour passed since Dean had fallen asleep; something he no doubt needed, and he had deemed it safe to move. Quietly, he pulled on his clothes, and looked down at Dean one last time. He dared to reach out and stroke the mans hair one last time, but hesitated, swallowing softly. He needed to go, he had other matters to tend too, as much as he wanted to stay here with the other.

With a soft sigh he turned, closing his eyes for a moment as he tilted his head to the ceiling; the sounds of Dean snoring quietly was the last thing he heard before he vanished without a goodbye.


End file.
